Is Foster Care Worth the Heartbreak?

In July of last year, a beautiful little girl came to live in my home. It was a strange feeling, opening my door to her, unpacking her few belongings, and knowing that I was now the only mother figure in her life. I was expecting to feel a sense of fear in that moment, but I actually just felt an overwhelming love for her. We bonded so quickly and I knew all along that I was going to have trouble letting her go. For eleven months, I loved, nurtured and cared her for like she was my very own. I could not have possibly loved her more, but I knew the goodbye was inevitable. When the day came, my heart felt like it had been ripped from my chest. There are now over a thousand miles between us. I can’t put into words how much that separation hurts. Leaving her in her new home, as much as I knew she’d be happy there, was so hard. I flew home with a heavy heart, full of grief and just feeling broken.

Since I posted my last blog post, I have had so many conversations and messages from people who love the heart behind fostering. They get the ‘why’, they tell me they would love to foster too, and they would make great foster parents. But time and time again, it is the fear of this moment that holds them back. The fear of the gut-wrenching goodbyes. The fear of getting “too attached”. The fear of the continual heartbreak.

I get it. And I can’t pretend the goodbyes don’t hurt. They hurt more than I can explain. They induce waves and waves of grief. It feels so unfair to have to pass a child on to someone else when you have loved them as your own. Not a single day has gone by when I haven’t thought about her and felt a sting of sadness. It gets worse when I realise her little mind is trying to process all this grief too. Yet, I know that I will go through this again, and again, and again.

The realities of foster care are somewhat hidden. Now that I have become aware of them, I find them hard to ignore. Even in the face of unexplainable grief, they motivate me to keep the doors of my heart and my home open.

This year in the UK, 40,000 children will enter the care system. We don’t have enough homes to accommodate all these children; our nation is still waiting for 8,600 foster homes. When there is no home in the area for a child, they get ripped away from everything they know and either placed in a children’s home or sent to a foster home miles away from their locality. Because we have such a shortage of foster homes, teenagers as young as 14 get left to fend for themselves in Bed and Breakfasts, caravan parks and even tents. At 16 years old, they often feel completely abandoned by the system as many are left in unregulated accommodation, where they commonly go missing and admit to seeking out individuals they know will groom them, in an attempt to escape the isolation.

These children have hopes and dreams just as much as any other child, yet the statistics paint a dark picture for their future. Children within the care system are five times more likely to develop childhood mental health problems. Within a month of leaving care, a third of young people misuse drugs. Across the UK, a third of the homeless generation are care-experienced young people and 50% of those involved in the criminal justice system were formerly in care. What gets me about these statistics, is that behind these ‘criminals’ and ‘homeless people’ and ‘drug abusers’, who are so often looked down upon in society, there are vulnerable children who have sat shivering and starving, scared and alone. There are children who have witnessed horrific violence, been abused, experienced heart-rendering loss and felt forgotten. These children have had their innocence stolen from them and have done absolutely nothing to deserve being dragged into chaos.

The beautiful thing about being a foster carer, is that you get to step into the chaos with a child and let them know they’re not alone. It means getting hurt, but it also means experiencing the privilege of rooting for a child who is likely to feel the world is against them. These children need adults they can depend on and feel safe with, and you get to be that for them. For some, the bond they build with you may be the first secure attachment they have ever made. You get to empower them to feel confident to explore the world around them, because they know they have a safe place to come back to. You get to help them realise their own value because they see it reflected in your eyes. You get to teach them that how they feel is okay and help them learn to regulate their emotions. When a child forms a secure attachment to you, the world becomes a less scary and dangerous place in their eyes and they begin to trust themselves and others. It has been discovered that if a child makes one secure attachment in foster care, they can transfer that attachment to their next care giver and this can significantly impact their future for the better.

This is why I never want the fear of getting ‘too attached’ to stop me. Attachment is exactly what they need. When foster care becomes simply about providing for a child’s physical needs whilst keeping emotional distance, the statistics aren’t surprising. I don’t want any of my foster children to be limited in their potential because of their past and I will do everything in my power to stop that from happening. I don’t dwell on the statistics, though they are important to be aware of, because I fully believe that every child who comes into my care has the ability to flourish if they can change their damaged perception of themselves and the world around them.

I had only been back a few weeks after leaving my little one in her new country, when I took an emergency call from the local authority. Within two hours, a seven year old boy had moved into my home. People have asked me how I was able to ‘move on’ so quickly. Honestly, I know I will never move on. Every moment I shared with that beautiful little girl shaped me and made me the person I am today. It will always feel unfair that she could only stay in my care for eleven months, but as much as I don’t want to, I have to accept it. I’m not moving on, but I am moving forward, shaped and changed by the precious moments I shared with her.

I know that she is in a safe place now. I have regular contact with her. I get sent the most beautiful photos of her laughing and playing with her new family. I know that the trajectory of her life has changed and it is a privilege to have played a part in that. I am so proud of every hurdle she has leapt over. That little girl who came into my home last July, after experiencing trauma after trauma, she now knows that the world isn’t against her. She is no longer tormented by night terrors, no longer hides out of fear when she has done something wrong, no longer attempts to push her emotions down, or erupts suddenly into panic. Her trauma, of course, hasn’t been completely erased, but she is learning that she is victorious over it. She knows that she is worthy of love and that there are people who care about her deeply. I pray that she knows I will forever be on her side, and I will always have the doors of my home open to her.

My heart will forever be broken by our separation; she was the first child to make me a mother. But out of that broken heart, I will pour love into the next child. There is no conflict between grieving what I’ve lost and moving forward to help someone else. I will love each child who comes into my care just as much, and they will all need it just as much too. I know that it will continue hurt every time I say goodbye and it’s never going to get easier. That is, in my opinion, a small price to pay for the potential of helping a child to find hope. Every child who comes into foster care has faced trauma they should never have faced. On top of this, they feel the sadness that comes with being separated from the ones they love, and I know now on a deeper level how painful that really is. Being the one who gets to hold them through this, listen to them, appreciate them, celebrate them, show up for them, pray for them, empower them, laugh with them, and see them flourish in spite of every obstacle, this makes foster care 100% worth the heartbreak.